First Leave
by Rose Stetson
Summary: After Sam shows up in DC, on leave from her duties as commander of the George Hammond, and suggests that she and Jack have dinner and a movie, Jack has to ask himself, and Sam, some hard questions.


First Leave

"Lieutenant," Jack called, poking his head out of his office door.

"Yes, sir?" The young Lieutenant said, looking up from his desk.

"That took longer than I thought. Do I have any calls?"

"Only one from a, uh, Colonel Samantha Carter." He said, retrieving a pink slip from his desk.

"Oh?" He asked, surprised, as he accepted the slip from his assistant.

"Yeah. She said to call the number I wrote down. Something about one of those...pay-as-you-go phones? Anyway, she said to call..."

"I got it, Lieutenant." Jack interrupted.

"Right."

"Dismissed." Jack said, waving the Lieutenant away before he slipped back into his office and behind his desk.

In the Lieutenant's messy handwriting was a quick message: Col. Samantha Carter – SGC. Call ASAP 202-555-6694.

He wanted to smile. He wanted to laugh and tell the story of how only a few months earlier, when she'd embarked on her tour with the _George Hammond_ he'd convinced her to get rid of her cell phone contract and just get one of those pay-as-you-go phones. He wanted to be happy that she was calling, but there could be so many reasons that she wanted to talk to him ASAP that he was more than a little concerned.

He tried to ignore the gnawing worry building in the pit of his stomach as he reached for his phone and dialed the number on the paper.

"Carter," she greeted.

"Got your message. What's up?"

"I'm in town." She said with an obvious smile in her voice. "I thought we could maybe see each other while I'm here."

He released a silent sigh of relief before he smiled and allowed himself to be happy to hear her voice. "Sounds great, Carter. What'd you have in mind?"

"Uh...dinner and a movie?"

"I'll make the reservations."

She hesitated for a moment. "I know it's going to sound silly, sir, but...being in orbit has really screwed up my sense of time here on Earth."

"So...no reservations?"

"I was just thinking about a nice, quiet evening at your house."

"Well, in that case," he said, with a smile. "I'll stop by the video store on my way home, and pick up one of the new releases."

"Sir, you don't have to do that. We have movies on board. I'm just fine watching something you already have..."

"If you're not going to let me spoil you with dinner at a fancy restaurant, then you're going to have to let me splurge and rent us a movie."

She giggled under her breath. "Okay, okay."

"Anything you wanna see in particular?"

"Well, there is a movie that seemed interesting." She admitted. "But it's a romantic comedy, so if you want to watch something else..."

"Romantic comedy is fine. What's it called?"

"Did You Hear About the Morgans?"

"Hear what about who?" He asked, confused.

"No, sir," she laughed. "That's the name of the movie."

"Oh." He said, chuckling himself. "I guess I haven't heard of it."

"Well, it's Sarah Jessica Parker and Hugh Grant..."

"Now, I know why you want to see it." He teased.

"Come on, one comment during "Two Weeks' Notice", which was your idea, by the way, and I never hear the end of it."

"Well, if he hadn't been such a jerk in that movie..."

"It's not like I was actually dating him." She said, laughed. "And I didn't say anything about his personality, which, I agree, was absolutely horrendous...I said he was kind of cute."

"Kind of cute? As I recall, it was more like "He's a hunk"."

"I haven't used the word "hunk" since I was in seventh grade." She giggled.

"Yes...well..."

"So, you'll get the movie and I'll order dinner?"

"Uh-uh. I'm buyin'."

"Sir..."

"I told you. If I can't take you to a fancy restaurant, then I'm gonna get to splurge, and..."

"Buy the take-out." She finished.

Though they were on the phone, he could almost see her grin as she finished his sentence. "I'll be home around five-thirty, give or take an intergalactic emergency or two."

"Don't even joke." She reprimanded, lightly.

"You're right." He smiled. "I don't want to jinx it or anything."

"Is the key still under the mat?"

"You're at my house already?"

"Is that okay? I mean, I know you've had Daniel and Teal'c stay with you on occasion, and we've gone to the cabin together a few times, and when I came out to DC to talk about the alternate reality, I spent all my time here, anyway, so I...I just assumed..."

"No, that's fine." He said, shaking his head. "Uh...Sure." He coughed. "That'd be...That'd be fine, Carter."

She was quiet, and he heard her sigh. "I'm...I'm really not very good at this, sir."

"Good at what?"

"I should have called...emailed...something so I wasn't just...inviting myself to stay at your house."

She was nervous. She only rambled when she was nervous. "Carter, it's fine."

"I just wasn't exactly sure of when I'd be coming in, and I didn't know exactly where we stood, and so..."

"Breathe, Carter."

"Yes, sir."

"I've got a spare room that you can crash in, and yeah...the spare key's under the mat. Like I said, I'll be there at five-thirty, so..."

"Sounds good." She said, calmer than she'd been before.

"Carter?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Glad you're safe."

"Thank you, sir." She said with a smile.

"I should get back to work before someone catches me on a "personal" call."

She laughed. "Yes, sir."

"Did You Hear About the Morgans?"

She chuckled. "Yes, sir."

"Just checkin'." He teased.

"Good-bye, sir."

"Good-bye, Carter."

* * *

"Lucy, I'm home!" Jack called as he entered his Georgetown home.

"Oh, oh, just give me a few seconds..." Sam stammered from the kitchen.

"What are you doing in there?" Jack asked, walking into the kitchen to Carter, clad in jeans and a t-shirt, standing in the center, covered in flour and sugar as she stirred a batter in a bowl. He couldn't help but laugh loudly as she looked up at him, flour streaking her long, blonde hair as she looked up from her baking.

"You're early, sir." She said, looking up in embarrassment.

"Yeah. My last meeting was canceled. I thought we'd start the movie early." He looked around his kitchen with the observant eye of a soldier. "Whatcha makin'?"

She managed a sheepish smile. "Cake."

He grinned. "Cake, huh?"

She bit her lip as she blushed softly.

"Chocolate?"

She laughed. "Is there any other kind?" She brushed her hands on Jack's denim apron which she'd probably found in the pantry when she'd gotten out the flour. "I found this recipe on the internet." She reached for a crumpled piece of paper, dusted in flour and doused in egg whites, and walked it over to him. "Uh...Aunt Glynn's Chewy Cake."

"I didn't know you had an Aunt Glynn."

She nudged him with her shoulder. "I don't have an Aunt Glynn," she laughed. "It's a Paula Deen recipe."

"Oh, great." He chuckled. "I'll gain five pounds just looking at the recipe."

"It's not that bad." She laughed, walking back over to the counter as she began beating the batter again.

"Why'd you want to bake a cake?"

"Well, you wouldn't let me do anything else," she teased.

"You're on leave, Carter. Don't you know how to take a break?"

"This is fun for me, sir." She said, calling to memory for both of them the time that Jack had walked into Sam's lab and found her performing experiments instead of preparing to leave the base.

"Well, let me at least help." He said, slipping off his uniform jacket.

"I'm almost done," she said, shaking her head. "And with the mess I'm making, you'll get your dress blues all dirty in no time."

"You have a point." He smiled. "So, I guess I'm going to go and change, and then, if you still aren't finished, I'll help."

She turned a wide smile to him as she nodded. "It's a deal."

Jack swallowed, watching her finish up her baking for a few moments. There was something different about her, he mused to himself. Something soft and domestic about her in the kitchen. He almost laughed, realizing that even five years earlier, he would never have been able to imagine using those two words to describe Samantha Carter.

She looked up, sensing that he was still there. "Something wrong?"

"Nah." He said, shaking his head.

They'd come to an understanding several years ago after her father had died. They weren't ready to really be together, but they had realized with her failed engagement and his failed relationship that they probably weren't ever going to be happy in relationships with other people.

It was strange how that realization had made the tension of their yet undefined relationship ebb away into the comfort of a flirtatious friendship.

She cleared her throat as she pursed her lips together and pushed them to one side as she expressed with her face a slight discomfort with the strange and awkward silence between the two Air Force officers.

"Right. Changing," he laughed.

She watched him go for a moment, opening her mouth to speak before she closed it again and returned to her baking.

* * *

"That'll be the delivery guy." Jack said, nearly an hour later as the door bell rang.

There was a ding. "And that's the cake." Sam called from the kitchen.

"I love my life!" He called back, eliciting a laugh from her as he walked to the door.

It was only a few moments before he walked back into the living room to find Sam, now cleaned up from her baking adventure with her blond hair falling in gentle curls on her shoulders, standing with a six-pack in one hand while the other hand rested comfortably in her jeans pocket. "Cake's cooling." She said with a simple shrug of her shoulders.

"Yeah, well, I've got fried rice, beef and broccoli, sweet and sour pork, egg rolls and fortune cookies here." He said, revealing the bag of Chinese takeout.

She smiled, softly. "And I put the movie in the DVD player."

"I guess it's time for that movie," he said as they walked over to the couch. He set the food on the coffee table, and she set the beer beside it.

They were silent as each took a seat on the couch, and Jack began unpacking the Chinese food.

"Do you want a plate?" Jack asked, realizing that she might want something a little more sophisticated than his usual hunch over the Chinese takeout carton.

She shook her head. "As long as you don't mind switching containers with me every few bites," she teased, her eyes twinkling as she reached for one of the pairs of chopsticks.

"I think it's better than the MREs we've switched."

She smiled, fondly, as he handed her a carton of rice.

"You clean up good, Carter." He admitted, trying to sound casual.

"Well, you weren't exactly supposed to see that," Sam laughed as she reached the chopsticks into the carton of rice and scooped up a tiny bite.

"I'm glad I did." He said, honestly.

They shared a look for a moment, pausing their actions for a few seconds before Sam coughed and broke the gaze. "So, are we going to start this movie or what?" She laughed nervously.

"Right." He said, reaching for the remote control. He pressed a button that lit up the screen and then another which started the movie.

"Pass the sweet and sour pork, please," she murmured a few minutes into the movie.

He handed the carton to her, and she took a few bites before looking over at him. "Sir, I..."

He looked over at her, and she smiled. "Thank you, sir."

"Lose the sir." He said, turning his attention back to the movie.

"Sir?"

"We're friends. Watching a movie. We're not in the same chain of command. We're not eating MREs."

She nodded. "Right."

By now, Hugh Grant was trying to find out if he could buy a constellation.

"It's an asterism, not a constellation," Sam murmured from beside him.

"Huh?"

She turned to him. "It's a common misconception," she began. "Constellations are just pieces of the sky...like...I don't know...a slice of pizza." Her hands were out in front of her as she tried to physically act out her analogy. "Each "slice", if you will, represents a section of the celestial sphere as we can see it from Earth. Asterisms, however, are the actual groupings of stars. They're the things that we actually call constellations."

"Like...pepperoni on a pizza." He said after a moment.

"I guess you could say that," she said, nodding. "The unique grouping of pepperoni slices on a piece of pizza might be called an asterism while the slice itself is called a constellation. In the most correct usage of the terms."

He nodded, slowly.

"Sorry, you didn't need to know that." She blushed, turning back to the movie.

"You don't have to apologize to me, Carter." He said with a shrug as he turned back to his beef and broccoli. He set it down on the table after a few moments. "Now, you went and made me think about pizza."

She chuckled softly to herself as she took a swig of her beer.

They were quiet for the next little while, just watching the movie. "I'm gonna get some cake," Sam said, standing as Hugh Grant and Sarah Jessica Parker were talking outside the restaurant. "You want some?"

"I'll get it." He said, standing.

She laughed, softly. "I think I can get cake by myself."

"Yeah, but...I'm the host."

"Stay there," she said with a faint smile. "I can handle it."

"Okay." He said, watching her leave the room. He turned back to the movie, trying to focus his attention on it, but his thoughts kept turning to the blond in the kitchen. Was she thinking the same things he was thinking? Was she as open to a romantic future as he was?

"Your cake." She said, offering a plate to him with a dark piece of cake on it and a fork on the side.

"Thanks, Carter."

She offered him a smile as she slipped past him to her seat on the couch. Except she sat closer to him. In such a way that he could easily slip his arm around her shoulder and she could rest the back of her head on his chest.

"What'd I miss?"

"Their assistants are trying to find a time for them to have dinner together. And Hugh Grant cheated on his wife – that's why they're separated."

"Ah." She took a bite of cake, leaving behind a small glob of melted chocolate on her lips.

This was torture, plain and simple.

"Carter, you, uh..." He murmured, reaching over. "You've got a spot..." He pointed, and she used her finger to wipe it off.

"Thank you, sir." She said, turning radiant smile to him.

"Sir..." He sighed.

"Jack." She corrected, more soberly than before. She studied him for a moment, and he wondered what she was trying to learn – what questions she wasn't asking him. Finally, she sat back against him as she reached for his arm and pulled it around her shoulders. With one hand reaching across her body, she intertwined her fingers with the ones on her shoulder.

"I thought you didn't want to do this yet," he murmured, his lips only a few inches from her ear.

She looked up at him, her blue eyes completely unveiled so that he could almost see anything he could ever want to know in them. "It's still not fair to ask you to watch me leave to go to off for six months at a time with the knowledge that it may be for the last time." She said after a moment.

"But?"

"But I need this. I came back to Earth today, realizing that I had practically dropped off the face of the planet since I took command of the _George Hammond. _I don't have an apartment. I don't have a car anymore. I haven't had a message on my answering machine from anyone except you and the guys and Mark in at least ten years." She bit her lip as she looked down at the ground. "It's like...I don't belong here anymore. But the ship isn't exactly home sweet home either, so..."

"So, you want a place...to call home."

"Home is where the heart is, Jack." She whispered. "If I just wanted a place, I could pay rent on an apartment that I never see, and have Daniel or Vala water the plants while I'm gone."

She swallowed, and looked back up at him. "When I realized I could go anywhere in the world for my leave because I don't have any strings or attachments, I had only one place that came to mind. Here. I wanted to come and see you, be with you, more than anything else. I guess that's when I realized that if you were willing to watch me come and go for months at a time, that I'd be pretty stupid not to take you up on your offer."

"Not stupid," he said, affectionately threading his fingers through her hair. "Afraid, maybe...of hurting me."

"That's the last thing in the world that I want." She said, earnestly.

"I know." He smiled as he brushed a kiss against her forehead. "That's one of the many things I love about you."

She blushed as she settled back in his embrace, allowing him to rest his head against the top of hers as they returned their attention to the movie.

"Mary Steenburgen!" He cried, excitedly, when she appeared on the screen.

Sam looked up with a grin. "Somehow I knew you'd get a kick out of that."

"She's so..."

Sam's expression changed, and Jack looked at her for a moment. "Nice." He finally finished, winning a low chuckle from Sam.

"And if by "nice", you mean "hot" like you told Bregman..." She teased.

"Hey, if you get to say Hugh Grant is "kinda cute", I get to say Mary Steenburgen is "nice"."

She giggled. "Okay, Jack. You've got a deal."

Several minutes later, he groaned. "She's got a cabin..."

Sam snickered to herself, and Jack leaned over. "Speaking of cabins...how'd you like to come to mine before your leave's up?"

She grinned. "I thought you'd never ask."

"Sam?" He asked after a moment.

"Yes, Jack?"

"I don't know what we've got here, and it's not important what we call it, but..." He hesitated for a moment, and she turned those brilliant sapphire-colored orbs to him as she listened intently. "I love you, Samantha Carter."

She smiled softly, clearly pleased at the admission. "I love you too, Jack O'Neill."


End file.
